Explore "The Refugees" by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
For two days the _Golden Rod_ lay becalmed close to the Cape La Hague, / with the Breton coast extending along the whole of the southern horizon. / On the third morning, however, came a sharp breeze, and they drew / rapidly away from land, until it was but a vague dim line which blended / with the cloud banks. Out there on the wide free ocean, with the wind / on their cheeks and the salt spray pringling upon their lips, these / hunted folk might well throw off their sorrows and believe that they had / left for ever behind them all tokens of those strenuous men whose / earnest piety had done more harm than frivolity and wickedness could / have accomplished. And yet even now they could not shake off their / traces, for the sin of the cottage is bounded by the cottage door, but / that of the palace spreads its evil over land and sea.
"I am frightened about my father, Amory," said Adele, as they stood / together by the shrouds and looked back at the dim cloud upon the / horizon which marked the position of that France which they were never / to see again.